To Do a Man's Job
by AbCarter
Summary: A man who should be king, a girl who hears voices, no wonder Jeffrey and Bogg need to take a boat trip.
1. Orleans

Snow, Jeffrey thinks as he picks himself up, has the advantage that it makes the landing a bit softer. The disadvantage is of course that it is cold and wet. He pats the snow off and shivers. A warm sweater and some gloves would be nice. Hot cocoa, curling up in front of a nice crisp fire after a snowball fight with your friends. Snowballs, another advantage to snow. Jeffrey bends to pick up some snow, rolls it into a ball and throws it at his friend. Phineas Bogg looks perplexed for a moment, as if he doesn't know what hit him. Then he looks into the laughing face of his young partner.

"I'll get you for that, kid." Bogg bends down to pick up some snow. He throws a snowball at Jeffrey, but misses target as the boy quickly ducks. A snowball fight enfolds.

"Truce?" Jeffrey offers from a distance, a snowball in each hand.

"Truce." Bogg accepts and drops the snow he just picked up.

Jeffrey drops his snowballs too and walks over to his friend, rubbing his arms and blowing warm air in his hands. A snowball fight when you're not dressed for the occasion isn't a very good idea.

"When and where are we?"

"Orléans, France." Bogg checks the omni. "1431, December 25th."

"Merry Christmas, Bogg."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Jeffrey."

"Red light?"

"Actually, no light at all. Maybe some snow got into it and it broke."

"I thought the omni was waterproof." Landing in water never seemed to do any damage to the omni.

"Hmm." Bogg taps on the omni with his fingers. He hits the side of it with the ball of his hand. "Ah, we have a light again. Red. And the date changed. It's December 16. Sorry, kid, no Christmas."

"That's okay. Holidays are toughest." Jeffrey turns his head away and shivers.

Bogg nods knowingly. "Any thoughts on what should have happened here on the 16th?" he asks to take the boy's mind of loosing his parents.

"No. But could we go somewhere warm while I think about it? I'm turning into an ice popsicle."

-oOo-

They find themselves a warm inn and some places by the open fire to warm up. Jeffrey holds his hands to the fire and exaggerates his shivering.

"Oh, this is so nice, so nice. I can feel my fingers again. Ahh."

"Cut the drama, kid. No one's watching." Bogg takes of his boots to warm his feet.

"What happened to the two of you?" a boxum woman, holding a pitcher, asks. "You look like you've been rolling in the snow."

"Almost," Bogg replies.

"Here, this'll warm you up." She pours two goblets from her pitcher and gives them to them.

"Wine?" Jeffrey looks into his goblet and takes in the aroma. "I don't think I should." He wants to call after the woman, but she has already moved on. "Should I?" he asks Bogg.

Bogg raises an eyebrow. "That depends. It'll make you warm on the inside, but it will also make you giddy in the head. What's more important to you?"

"One sip wouldn't hurt." Jeffrey decides. He stares some more in his goblet, before he takes a gulp. "Ugh! That tastes awful."

"Wouldn't say that too loud in France." Bogg quietly warns him.

"It does warm up my throat, though." Jeffrey swirls the liquid in the goblet. "I'll think about drinking the rest of it." He looks around the room and picks up on the conversation going on at a nearby table.

"So, today Henry VI King of England is crowned King of France. I can't drink to that," a man says.

"You could try to drink away your sorrows," another man replies.

"I'll drink to that. Santé." The first man takes a big gulp, emptying his goblet in one. He beckons the boxum woman to pour him another. "What bothers me, is not so much that our king is only ten years old, but that he is English."

"His mother is French. Daughter of Charles VI."

"That's debatable." He takes another gulp.

"Excuse me." Jeffrey interrupts. "But wouldn't Charles VII be king of this part of France."

"Charles VII?" The man squints at Jeffrey as if he can't get him into focus. "You mean the Dauphin? You tell him." He nods to his friend.

"The Dauphin isn't ready yet to be king."

"Ready? Ha." The first man hits the table with his fist. "At this rate he'll never be ready. Too much a doubter to fight against the English. His father, Charles VI, the Foolish, turns us over to the English. His son, Charlie VII sits down to have a good ponder on whether he can become king of France, because maybe number six wasn't his father. Well, if you ask me, he's as mad as his father, so there definitely is a family line." He pounds his goblet on the table to get the attention of the woman with the pitcher.

"Why didn't Joan of Arc liberate Orléans?" Jeffrey asks.

"Joan who?"

"Joan of Arc. The Maiden. The virgin of Orléans. In 1429 she lead the army that freed Orléans."

"A woman that leads an army?" The man brings his goblet to his mouth. "Well, she couldn't have done worse than Charles Dauphin."

"So, no Joan of Arc?"

"No Joan." The man shakes his head and takes a sip. "I've never met her, but I think I'll miss her."

Jeffrey turns back to the fire, his brow frowned, slightly biting his lip. Bogg knows this look: his young friend is brooding over something. He takes his boots to put them back on. They may be leaving soon.

"Joan of Arc. She didn't lift the siege of Orléans. That's why Henry VI is king of France, of a much bigger portion of France than he's is supposed to."

"So we got to help Joan lift the siege of Orléans?"

"I think we need to go back even further than that. These men have never even heard of Joan. They would have, if she'd been here to try to lift the siege. What do you know about Joan of Arc?"

Bogg racks his brain. "Young girl, heard voices, burned at the stake as a witch."

"Hmm, you don't know more than I do. I think I once saw a movie on TV about her, but that didn't say much about her beginnings, and I was more interested in the fights anyway."

"That's nice. And your parents didn't mind you watched it?" Bogg wishes he had bitten of his tongue earlier when his teeth were chattering with cold.

"I was living with my aunt then, and she didn't care," Jeffrey replies, seemingly unmoved. "I think we have to go back a few years, check whether Joan is really hearing the voices, and paying attention to them. I remember from the movie that she lived in a village in Lorraine."

"Okay. So we go there." Bogg takes the omni and sets the dials. "Ready?"

Jeffrey takes another sip of his wine, shivers with disgust and puts down the goblet. "Ready."


	2. Amiens

They land in a narrow alley. Jeffrey picks himself up and looks around. He is surrounded by brick buildings, hears a horse drawn carriage rattle by in the street.

"Just a wild guess, but this is not a peasant village in Lorraine in 1425."

Bogg checks the omni. "We're in France, though."

"Well, that's something."

Bogg throws his partner a look for mocking. "Amiens, 1886, March 9." Jeffrey shrugs. Bogg closes the omni and hangs it on his waist band. "Let's go into the street, walk around a bit." Jeffrey nods absent-mindedly.

It's in the early evening and the few people that are in the street are rushing home to be with their families. After a few minutes Bogg starts to wonder why Jeffrey hasn't said anything since they left the alley.

"Hmm, Jeff, not that I'm not grateful or anything for a little peace and quiet every once in a while, but is there any particular reason you're being this quiet?"

"It's just," Jeffrey pauses and pulls his face in an even bigger frown. "I know the omni sometimes gets stuck in automatic and all."

"Yeah, I really need to take a look at that sometime, it's starting to interfere with our work."

"It brings us to our work, Bogg," the young man says reproachfully. "But what I don't understand is that it has brought us more than 400 years into the future of the last place we were. Wouldn't the red light we get here have the same cause as the red light we got earlier?"

"Not necessarily. France and England will have fought so many wars in those 400 years that the matter of who controls which parts of France will have sorted itself out. Just no one will have heard of Joan of Arc. And that's not necessarily important."

"So this red light could be about something all together unrelated?"

"It probably is."

"Hmm, no idea what it could be, though."

"That's okay, something will hit us sooner or later."

The words are not cold from his mouth or they are hit by something, in the form of a man running into them.

"Are you all right?" Bogg asks as he grabs hold of the man who is spinning on his feet slightly from the collision.

"Yes, yes, quite." He presses his top hat a little firmer on his head. "Just going a little too fast for my own good. And who might my kind capturer be?" The man steps back and takes a good look at Bogg. "A pirate? I haven't seen a live one of those in forty years."

"Phineas Bogg, at your service." Bogg makes a small bow.

"Phineas Bogg? If you had been a little younger I would almost think you were named after a character in one of my books."

Bogg gives a wry smile. Hasn't he heard that one before. Jeffrey, who is a better listener, immediately cuts in.

"Hey, are you Jules Verne?"

"Young man, hasn't anyone ever told you to be quiet when your elders are talking. That children should only speak when spoken to?"

"I've told him," Bogg says, "but he doesn't listen."

"So, are you?" Jeffrey asks undeterred, nearly literally bouncing with excitement.

"Yes, young man, I am. And I will now leave you to your father, who, I hope, will impose some manners on you. If you'll excuse me." Jules taps the rim of his hat and takes off in the same brisk pace as before.

"How about that. We meet Jules Verne, second time for you. He lectures me on my behavior, but he does not have the good manners himself to tell you he named his most famous character after you."

"He probably doesn't even recall that he did that. But he is right about your manners, though." Bogg puts a hand on Jeffrey's shoulder and with a straight face he adds "I think we should really discuss that sometime."

"Sure." Jeffrey makes a face. If kids aren't supposed to ask questions how will they ever learn anything?

They hear a gun shot, take one look at each other and start running in the direction the sound came from. Another shot. They find Jules sitting on the ground, leaning against his garden fence.

"Hold him!" Jules says and points into the street. A man is running from the scene and Bogg sets in pursuit. Jeffrey kneels down by the side of the writer.

"Mister Verne, are you all right?"

"He got me in the leg."

"Doctor, someone get a doctor," Jeffrey shouts at the neighbors who have come from their houses to see what the unusual commotion is all about. "Mister Verne, did you see who did this?"

"I just opened the gate." Jules groans. "When I heard a bang. I thought it was some brat throwing fireworks, so I turned around to tell him off about it and then he shot me in the leg."

"But did you see who it was?"

"Very strange. I thought I saw my nephew Gaston, but I must be mistaken. That boy and I always have had excellent rapport."

Jules is not mistaken: he was shot my his nephew Gaston. Bogg manages to catch the young man and disarm him and turns him over to the police when they arrive at the scene. In the meantime his neighbors have loaded Jules into a carriage to take him to a doctor.

Walking on Jeffrey shakes his head.

"If we hadn't stopped him in the street, Jules would have made it home safe," he says. "And his nephew wouldn't have shot him."

"If we hadn't stopped him in the street his nephew might have killed him," Bogg replies. He takes his omni from his belt. Years of experience have taught him to always check after any kind of event whether the light has changed. Without a guidebook it's always guess work what triggers a green light. Even with a guidebook it is never easy to tell. "Look, we have a green light." He shows Jeffrey.

Jeffrey stops in his track. "That was supposed to happen? We had to stall Jules long enough so he could get shot by his nephew?"

Bogg looks his partner in his big dark eyes. Suddenly reminded of how young his friend really is. He tries to treat Jeffrey as a grown up, and valued partner as much as he can. That's usually pretty easy, 'cause Jeffrey's quite mature for his age. Sometimes Bogg even forgets he is dealing with a kid. And then events like this remind him.

"Look, kid."

"Don't call me kid."

"Okay, Jeff. Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes setting history straight means someone has to get hurt." Sometimes the historical figure, sometimes the Voyager, Bogg thinks to himself.

"Yeah, I guess so. But I don't like to think that we were the reason he got hurt."

"Then don't think that. Think that we prevented he got hurt worse. Think that we were there to catch the guy who shot Jules."

"Hmm." Jeffrey nods he understands.

"Hey, Jeff, if we go back to our original assignment, telling Joan of Arc that she must lead an army to Orléans, you know what will happen to her. She will be burned at the stake as a witch. Are you up to that?"

"Yeah, I'm up to that."

"We could also just ignore that red light and move on."

"What would happen to the red light if we left it?"

"Some other Voyager is bound to stumble upon it sooner or later. Let him or her sort it out."

"No, that's okay. I can do this. I know Joan is going to be burned, I didn't know Jules was gonna get shot."

"Are you sure? Joan's about your age, you might like this girl."

"I'll just keep reminding myself that she's a witch."

Bogg smiles. "It doesn't always work that way with women, I'm afraid." He sets the dials of the omni. "Hang on, here we go."


	3. Lorraine

Above a field near Domrémy in Lorraine Bogg and Jeffrey fall from the sky. The slope adds to the difficulty of landing. Jeffrey stumbles forward. He takes a few steps to catch himself, bumps into a girl and falls on top of her. He mumbles some excuses while he picks himself up and helps her to her feet.

"I'm sorry about that. Are you all right?"

The girl looks at him with big scary eyes. She gives a small nod. She crosses herself, folds her hands and lowers her head. She starts to murmur prayers. Jeffrey looks around for Bogg.

Upon landing Bogg has fallen and rolled down the slope. He sighs when he comes to a stop. Voyagers' R&D should really start to make haste with inventing a device that makes sure Voyagers land on their feet. And stay on their feet. Between rough landings and getting beaten up by people who get more than a little hostile when you try to help their future along, this is not a job he's going to be able to do until retirement age. How did Wolfman manage for so long? Did he pack a parachute? He looks up. He sees the kid looking down at him, worry starting to form on his face. Bogg smiles at him. He picks himself up and takes the omni.

"1424. Just where you wanted to be." He hangs the omni back on his belt and moves up the slope.

"Are you all right?" Jeffrey asks him.

"Sure." Bogg pads him lightly on the shoulder.

"You were just lying there. I thought you were hurt or something."

"I'm okay. Who's that?" Bogg points at the praying girl.

"I don't know." Jeffrey shrugs. "I fell on top of her. Then she started praying."

"Are you angels?" The girl looks up at them.

"Uh, not really," Bogg replies. "Who are you?"

"Joan. Joan of Jacques of Arc. What are you if you are not angels? You came falling from the sky. Are you messengers from God?"

"We are," Jeffrey says quickly realizing this is the girl they wanted to meet. "That is the archangel Michael. We are here because we have an assignment for you."

Joan folds her hands and starts praying again. Bogg gives Jeffrey a questioning look.

"Joan said that she was told to drive out the English by Saint Catherine, Saint Margaret, Saint Michael and God," Jeffrey explains.

"So, if I'm Michael, which one are you?"

Jeffrey ignores Bogg's question. He taps Joan on her shoulder.

"Our time is precious. Don't waste her too much."

"No, I won't." Joan answers with a timid voice.

"We have an assignment for you," Jeffrey continues. "You have to drive the English from France." He presses his hands together piously at chest height. "I was raised catholic," he explains to Bogg. "We like a little decorum."

Bogg considers this.

"Joan, do you hear me?" Joan nods. "You have to free France from the English." Jeffrey turns to Bogg. "I think we're about done here."

"Done? We only just started. There's still a red light."

"I think this assignment will take some years. We should jump ahead a few months and talk to Joan again."

"Okay, you're the expert." Bogg sets the dials of the omni.

Joan sees Bogg and Jeffrey disappears. She crosses herself three times and bows her head again for prayer.

-oOo-

It's a few months later, but the same slope. Jeffrey manages to catch himself on hands and feet. Bogg stumbles over his own feet and rolls down the slope.

"Bat's breath." He wants to add something stronger, but notices a girl staring at him. He checks himself and jumps up. "Sorry about that."

"Archangel Michael? You're back."

"Yes. Joan. We wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten about us."

"Of course not. How could I forget about you?"

"And you also haven't forgotten about the assignment we gave you?"

"No, no. You want me to drive the English from France."

"God wants you to drive the English from France," Jeffrey corrects. "Charles Dauphin should be crowned king of France. It is God's wish. The English must leave France. They shouldn't be here."

"Come, Joan, sit with us. We will tell you the sad history of your country." Bogg takes the girl's hand and pulls her down to sit with him. He indicates to Jeffrey to tell the history of France.

Jeffrey takes his time to decide whether he should stand up for his lecture or sit down. He decides to sit down opposite of Joan and Bogg. His little pause has given him time to collect all that he knows about France and England and the Hundred year war. So he tells Joan about the insanity of Charles VI and the quarrel between the duke of Burgundy and the duke of Orléans over the guardianship of his children, which caused the country to fall apart, making it weak and easy for the English to invade. He further tells her of the murder on the duke of Burgundy and how his son seeks revenge for that on Charles Dauphin. And how Queen Isabeau negotiates the Treaty of Troyes, making Henry V of England heir to the throne of France, thus cheating Charles Dauphin from his rightful inheritance. Jeffrey closes his argument by saying, "God wants you to give the Dauphin back his inheritance."

"I see."

They sit quietly for a while. Then Bogg says, "Be good, Joan. We have to leave now. But we will be back to bring you more encouragement." They get up to leave. "Don't forget what we told you."

-oOo-

Again a few months later. This time Bogg manages to not roll down the slope. He looks around.

"Where's Joan?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's at her house. There's a village over there."

"Let's see if we can find her there." Bogg sets off. "In the mean time, perhaps you can tell me about these other saints Joan got her assignment from, Catherine and Margaret. We don't have to pretend we're them too, do we?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Could be fun to see you pretend to be a woman." Jeffrey chuckles.

"Don't think that would work. My voice would give me away." Bogg tries to say the last in a higher pitch tone. It makes Jeffrey laugh even more. "But who are these saints? I've never heard of them before, I think."

"Catherine and Margaret are two of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. They were both virgins and martyrs. They both were early Christians, fourth century I believe, and got many proposals of marriage, on condition they would renounce their Christianity, which they both refused. They were then tortured. Catharine, for instance, had to be broken on the wheel."

"Oh, yuck, now I'll have that image in my head for the rest of the day."

"Here's a better image for you: when she touched the wheel, it broke. Then they tried to burn her, but the fire blew out. At last they managed to kill her by decapitating her. From the wound streamed milk that freed her town of the plague."

"And catholics believe all that really happened?"

"In 1969 Catherine and Margaret were removed form the church calender, because there was insufficient historical proof they had existed."

"Ah, that's why I can't know them: insufficient historical proof."

"But you know of the archangel Michael. Have you seen historical proof of him?"

"He's in the Bible. The Bible is regarded as a book with historical significance among Voyagers. 'Nough wars have been fought with the Bible in hand."

"Historical significance? Are you calling the Bible a history book? It is so much more than that."

"I'm more inclined to say less. It's a history book, but it doesn't separate fact from fiction. But throughout time it has had a great influence on people's actions, therefore it is of historical significance."

"I can't accept that."

"Why not? Do you think everything in the Bible is true."

"I believe what is said in the Bible is true."

"That's not what I asked." Bogg frowns. "You believe, that's you're choice." He makes a hand gesture as if he wants this topic of conversation to go away.

Jeffrey doesn't want to give up that easily. Bogg is questioning his believes. Bogg hasn't second guessed anything he said, save for the occasional ethical judgment, in a long time. He wants to get to the bottom of this.

"You don't believe?" he asks.

"No." Bogg shrugs. "Seems odd to believe in God and Providence if it is us who have a hand in changing history," he adds.

"Have you never thought about it that it is Providence which guides Voyagers to guard history?"

"That just makes it odder. Could Providence not pay a little closer attention so that things wouldn't go wrong? Now she first has to let things go wrong, and then send in the troops, us, to set things right. I don't believe in Providence or God; let's just leave it at that. Now, let's talk about something else; when people with different views talk about religion it tends to get out of hand."

Jeffrey is baffled. All right, he's not really surprised that Bogg doesn't believe in God. Pirates are said to lead a Godless life. He's just surprised about the reason the ex-pirate gives for not believing. Being a Voyager has never compromised his belief in God. Rather, it has reinvigorated the faith he lost after the death of his parents.

"But if you don't believe in God how can you tell, let alone convince Joan that we are messengers from God?"

"Just because I don't believe, doesn't mean I have to go round trying to convince other people that they are wrong in their believe," Bogg replies. He stops Jeffrey to look him straight in the eyes. "As Voyagers we often come in situations where we have to do things that go counter to our instincts, our feelings or our better judgment. You know that. You have been in those situations. We do those things because we know, ultimately they are the right thing to do. The historically right thing. You understand?"

Jeffrey nods. He has had this type of talk often with Bogg, and every time it leads to the same conclusion: there's a difference between what you think is right, and what you know is right.

"Right, now let's find Joan. Maybe she has something to eat for us."

They start walking again. In the village they asks directions to the house of the family of Arc. They find Joan in the garden, sowing. Bogg sits down beside her.

"I knew you'd be back," Joan says after crossing herself. "The voices told me. You're voices told me."

"Joan," Bogg says, "you must go to the aid of the king of France; it is you who shall give him back his kingdom."

"But how, Saint Michael? I am pious, but I sow and take care of sick. Surely there must be men much better fitted for this task of driving the English out of France."

"Joan, you said you are pious, then don't ask so many silly questions. God has sent us here to prepare you for your task. Do you think we would waste our time with you if we thought you were not up to it?"

"No, Saint Michael." Joan crosses herself and bows her head.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm praying for the Dauphin to be victorious over the English."

"I'm not here to ask you to pray." Bogg lifts up her head and makes her look at him. "The army needs a strong and inspirational leader. You are that leader. The country needs you. Not as a prayer woman. There are enough of those. You will lead the army."

"But I am only a poor girl; I cannot ride a horse or lead armed men."

"God will help you," Bogg replies. "Go to Mr. Robert de Baudricourt, captain of Vaucouleurs, ask him for an escort to Chinon, to the Dauphin."

Jeffrey beams a smile at Bogg. In their walk through the village Bogg made him rehash everything he remembered from the movie he saw so long ago. He's glad also the little details he came up with are not going to waste.

"But I would have to travel through Burgundy territory to get to Chinon."

"Hence the escort."

"It is dangerous to travel for a woman."

Bogg rolls his eyes. Sometimes, he thinks, sometimes history should just be left to take it's course. Joan doesn't want to go to Chinon; the Dauphin doesn't want to be king; and in the end it's hardly going to matter whether they do anyway.

"You should dress as a man," Jeffrey say. "It's safer."

"Dress as a man? It's forbidden for women to dress as men."

"God has given you permission to dress as a man. The Church also makes an exception for dressing as a man if it is out of necessity; if it is to protect yourself."

Joan nods. Her mother calls from the door of the house to come in for dinner. Joan gets up and mumbles some apologies to Bogg and Jeffrey. She runs towards the house.

"I think there is still a lot of work to be done here."

"Yes, but she also started to hear the other voices. Maybe we should leave it up to them for a while."

Bogg takes the omni from his waist band. "Where to now?"

"Let's jump ahead a few years."


	4. Indian Ocean

Edmund yawns. The night watch shift is pretty dull. Not much happens if you're in the middle of the ocean. Surely the English also sleep at night. Besides that what English skipper in his right mind would attack a ship that is part of a small fleet of ships in the middle of the ocean. Apart from being greatly outnumbered, the English would also have been spotted miles away, their ship sank before they even could have tried anything. Dawn is breaking. Just another hour or so and then it is time for bed. Edmund yawns again. Thinking of sleep makes sleepy. Turn around and make another round. A crashing sound. The young sailor rubs in his eyes, shakes his head. He must have been dreaming already. Did two people just come falling from the sky? He looks up at he mast. They couldn't have come from there; he would have spotted them earlier if they had been in the mast.

Jeffrey grunts. Crashing onto hard surfaces is his least favorite landing. And in this case it also means that they're not where they wanted to go.

"Where are we, Bogg?"

"Indian Ocean, December 1666, red light."

Indian Ocean, then this is probably a ship because he doesn't feel as if he is actually in the ocean himself. He rolls onto hands and knees before he finally opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is a pair of shoes standing in front of him. He turns his head to look up at the person they belong to. He stares into the face of a boy about his own age.

"Hi."

"Hello," the owner of the shoes responds.

Bogg and Jeffrey quickly scramble up.

"You know you're not supposed to be on deck at night."

"You're on deck," Jeffrey quickly retorts, before Bogg can warn him off that a smart mouth is not the smartest thing on a ship in the middle of an ocean.

"I have the night watch." Edmund shivers and pulls his cape closer around him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, the kid got a little seasick. So I brought him above deck to get some fresh air."

"The boy hasn't been on board long then."

"Who are you calling a boy?"

Jeffrey feels the night watch man assess him, and he shivers. He's not sure whether it is from the cold or under the scrutiny.

"We just boarded," Bogg replies.

"At the Cape?" Edmund sizes him up too.

"Yeah, at the Cape. They were taking in fresh food, fresh water and fresh men. We thought we'd join."

Edmund nods. "We left the Cape a week ago. He should be used to the sea by now."

"I think the not so freshness of the food got to him." Bogg makes an apologetic smile.

"You should take him below deck. There are plenty of buckets there he can throw up in."

"Will do, right away." Bogg puts a hand on Jeffrey's shoulder to steer him to the lower deck. They don't get very far as they run into two other men.

"Sailor, what are these two men doing on the forecastledeck?" one of them asks Edmund.

"Just taking a stroll, sir."

"A stroll, at night?"

"It's nearly dawn, sir."

"I can see that, thank you, sailor. And what was the occasion for this stroll?" he turns his attention to Bogg and Jeffrey.

"A little seasickness." Bogg pats Jeffrey's shoulder and gives the men his best kids-'ey-what-are-ya-gonna-do smile. Jeffrey rubs his stomach and tries to look sick.

"You shouldn't have come aboard if you can't stand the sea," the man says to Bogg.

"I meant the kid," Bogg replies.

"I know you meant the kid." He returns a friendly smile. "What are you doing on board? Are you stowaways?"

"They boarded at the Cape," Edmund replies.

"Really? This is the first time I see them."

"First time they take a stroll at night, quartermaster. But I saw them, they properly mustered at the Cape."

"Then why didn't the bookkeeper write them up?" the quartermaster asks. Edmund doesn't know the answer to this question. He gives Bogg and Jeffrey a look.

"Because the bookkeeper ran out of ink," Jeffrey ventures.

"He ran out of ink?"

"Yeah, completely out of ink." Jeffrey, Bogg and even Edmund give the quartermaster affirming nods, assuring him that lack of ink was the problem.

"Right. What's that?" the quartermaster points at the omni and takes it from Bogg's waist band. "I assume you don't have a chest, otherwise you would not be carrying around a valuable like this. I'll take this for safe keep."

"I need to have that back, please," Bogg starts.

"You'll get it back when we reach Batavia." The quartermaster turns on his heels and walks away, followed by his second man. Bogg wants to jump after him and grab the omni, but he thinks better of it. Penalties for violence aboard ship are usually pretty severe, he would have to grab the kid and omni out immediately to avoid that, and there is a red light to fix. Getting the omni back can wait a little while.

"Thanks." Jeffrey turns to Edmund. "For a moment there I thought he was gonna throw us overboard as stowaways."

Edmund shrugs. "What would he care whether you are stowaways or not. You are two sets of hands that can do work on board and the Company doesn't have to pay you any wages when we reach Batavia."

"When do we reach Batavia?" Bogg asks. He'd like to have the omni back soon rather than later.

"February." Edmund pulls the cape around his shoulders and starts to descend the stairs to the main deck.

"February? That is two more months."

"Hmm. Be glad we're not sailing along the coast as they did in the early days, it would have taken another four months to get to Batavia."

"Great."

"Well, look on the bright side, Bogg." Bogg throws his companion an incredulous look. To him a 17th century ship is familiar and it almost feels like home. Other than that he cannot think of a bright side to it at all, particularly not for a thirteen-year-old boy. "This way we have plenty of time to figure out what the red light is about." Bogg gives a wry smile. The kid has been voyaging too long, he's developing a dark sense of humor.

"Okay, let's start. What have you got?"

"Well, considering this is a ship in the Indian Ocean sailing for Batavia, I would say this was a merchant ship of the VOC, the United East Indies Company."

"I know the kind. They always carried a lot of goodies."

Jeffrey frowns at his friend. "You're not thinking of looting this ship, are you?"

"On my own? I'm not stupid. Even if I was captain of my own pirate's ship I'd think twice before attacking a ship this size in the open ocean. It's probably carrying at least 40 cannons, and a bunch of people that know how to use 'm. I bet half the ship's crew is soldiers."

"You seem to be knowing more about this ship than I do."

"Yeah, but you probably know all about the VOC."

"Founded in 1602 to stop the different Dutch merchant companies from competing against each other. It was given the monopoly to carry out colonial activities in Asia. The company got its start up capital by giving out shares to the company, which led to probably the world's first stock exchange."

"See, all things I didn't know."

"Sure, but I can't possibly know what's supposed to happen to this ship. I actually only know about the Batavia. That shipwrecked off the Australian coast in 1629, followed by the most horrific mutiny in history. One of the ship's officers and his followers murdered 125 of the shipwreck survivors."

"Let's be glad we're not on that ship."

"I've thought of another thing. If this is 1666, we're in the middle of the second Anglo-Dutch war."

"That's not good. If we get caught in the middle of a sea battle ... I don't know."

"I think most battles were fought in the North Sea and in the Atlantic Ocean," Jeffrey assures him. "In the peace treaty of this war England took claim to territory around New Amsterdam, later that became New York."

"So the Dutch lost."

"No, they pretty much won the war."

Bogg frowns as he takes this in. The winning party gave up territory? He only remembers winning parties taking the loot, not giving it up. What did the Dutch get in return? Then he shakes his head; that's all in the future. He should focus on the here and now. He wonders what could be the matter. The omni says something's wrong, but sadly, omnies never say what's wrong. Even if it could, it was taken from them before they could have checked. It is now up to personal ingenuity to find out what's going on, and to get the omni back.

Slowly the ship is coming alive. Bogg and Jeffrey observe as the sailors and cabin boys set to their morning chores. Bogg suggests to go below deck to the orlopdeck where the crew and soldiers are staying and gather some information from them. Jeffrey puts forward that the red light may have something to do with one of the passengers or higher officers. After all, famous people are more likely to make it into the annals of history than the unnamed Joe's that stay below deck. And the omni gives a red light when things are going on that don't concur with the annals of history.

Besides he wants to try and find out where the omni is.

"They're probably less likely to be suspicious of a kid."

Bogg doubts that, but they agree to each go their way and meet back at the forecastle when they have something interesting to report.

The gundeck and the orlopdeck are both packed with people and their belongings. The smell is worse than he remembers. But then, the ship he sailed with carried less than a hundred men, and they would produce less stench than the two hundred packed up in here. Talking to the crew he finds out little more than he already knew. He learns that the ship's name is _Gerechtigheid_, and who the skipper and commander (head merchant) are. Nothing much. He returns to the main deck. Perhaps the kid has had more luck.

Jeffrey in the meantime has been trying to get to the aft. The soldier guarding the stairs to the quarterdeck, however, refuses to let him pass.

"Aside, I have business with the quartermaster." He stands up straight and tries to seem broad by putting his hands in his side. The soldier doesn't flinch. He doesn't even reply. "C'mon, people more important than you are waiting for me," Jeffrey adds.

"You don't have business with people more important than you," the soldier says. "They have business with you. And when they do, they will fetch you. Run along now."

Jeffrey moves a little out of the way, leaning against the banister in such a way he can keep his eye on the soldier and still seem casually minding his own. He starts to fret about how to get up the stairs. Passing the soldier is probably the biggest problem. Once he is up the stairs he can run into a cabin, and the soldier will probably have to return to his post, to keep others from running up the stairs as well. From thereon Jeffrey can snoop around the cabins and find out who or what is amiss with history, and where the omni is. But first, up the stairs.

He is in luck as a small riot breaks out near the main mast. The soldier on the stairs is directing his attention to that, rather than to him. Then he steps away from the stairs to break up the fight that is about to start. That's the moment Jeffrey's been waiting for. He speeds up the stairs onto the quarterdeck, where someone picks him up in mid flight.

"Wrong way, young lad."

"But I have to ..."

"Crew stays before the main mast."

"But I'm a passenger."

"Uh-huh. And which one of the passengers are you? Are you the governor's wife with fingers so fat she can barely hold on to her fork anymore, or her skinny maid, who probably can use her own fingers as needles when she is sowing?"

"I am her son."

"Of the maid?"

"Of the governor's wife. I am the governor's son."

"I can see the resemblance." The man holds Jeffrey at arm's length. "Her and her big round, red face and the blond hair, and you, not at all like that." He lets go off one of Jeffrey's arms and holding the other one tight, he escorts him back down the stairs. "Stay there."

Plan foiled. Jeffrey sticks his hands in his pockets and kicks at some imaginary dirt.

"Hello again. Recovered from your seasickness yet?"

Jeffrey looks up. It's the night watch man from before. In the daylight Jeffrey can take a better look at him. He has long chestnut hair, bound together in a pony tail in his neck, and wears a wide shirt and vest. If someone had put him and Bogg next to each other and told Jeffrey 'pick out the pirate', he would asked if he could just flip a coin.

"Oh, I'm all right. I'm Jeffrey, by the way."

"Edmund. Trying to get up the poop?" Edmund nods to the aft.

"Yeah, I really had to go."

Edmund frowns for a moment and then it sinks in what the boy could be talking about. "Crew latrines are in the beak head. Mind you, if I had the chance, I would try to use their facilities too. Ours just aren't ... Well, it's one of those things they don't tell you about before you sign on. What it is like to share two heads with two hundred men."

"Life as a sailor not as glamorous as you thought it would be?"

"Never thought it would be glamorous. Only ones going on about how wonderful life at sea is are the drunken sailors."

"What shall we do with the drunken sailor," Jeffrey sings.

"Haha, sounds nice. You should sing that some time, to keep moral up."

"Hmm. And what have you been up to?"

"Sleeping. I always sleep the day after I had the night shift. And I usually have the night shift, so I sleep most of the days."

"You're not sleeping now."

"Wouldn't want to miss midday meal." Edmund produces a fork and starts cleaning it on his shirt.

"I could eat." Jeffrey suddenly realizes how long it's been since he's eaten, and how hollow his stomach is. After nearly a year and a half of voyaging he is used to eating at irregular intervals, and having to go without food for short periods of time. He can handle it. But when someone mentions food, his stomach rumbles.

"Do you have a fork?"

"No."

"Can't eat without a fork." Either the sad look in the boy's eyes or the really loud grunt from his stomach make Edmund reach out. "Come along, perhaps someone has a spare fork you can borrow."

At the forecastledeck Edmund joins five other men gathered around one pot from which they all pick their meal. Jeffrey hovers around them listlessly.

"What's with him?"

"He hasn't got a fork," Edmund replies.

"Can't eat if you haven't got a fork."

"He can sing, though."

"Oh, yeah? What can he sing?" The man turns his head to Jeffrey.

"Drunken sailor," Jeffrey says. And then quickly, before the man can take that as an insult he starts to sing. Everyone continues eating, no one seems to be paying attention to his singing, but he continues because it takes his mind of his empty stomach.

"Bravo. I liked that." The man applauds. "For that, you may borrow my fork for a few bites."

Jeffrey manages to say thank you while grabbing the fork from his hand and digging into the pot. The sailor meant 'a few bites' quite literally and takes his fork back when Jeffrey goes in a fourth time. The others have to laugh about the disappointment on his face. Edmund lets him have his fork when he's done eating. There's still enough left for Jeffrey to have a good meal. He wonders what Bogg is doing and whether he got the chance to eat. He returns his fork to Edmund, who gives it another run on his shirt.

"So what do you do all day?" he asks.

"Well, I sleep. The others hang around on deck when the weather is good, and below deck when the weather is bad. You can stay here, there are usually some plays going on in the afternoon. Just be careful not to be picked as a participator." Edmund smiles and gets up. "I'm going back to my hammock."

Jeffrey decides to look around for Bogg. It doesn't take him long to find him.

"Any luck this morning?"

"Marginally. I managed to win a fork playing cards this morning. Got one for you too. Sorry I didn't find you before they served the meal."

"That's okay. I sold my song for some food."

"You sold your soul?"

"Song."

"That sounds better, but also weirder."

"I sang a song and then someone gave me his fork to borrow," Jeffrey explains. "A fork that was a lot cleaner than this one, by the way."

"Don't complain. You know, it's illegal to gamble on board these ships, so I put myself at great risk trying to get you fed. A little appreciation would be nice."

"Thanks, Bogg. I appreciate the fork. I'd also appreciate the use of a chisel to chisel off the food residue, and what else it is that's on this fork."

Bogg rubs his hand through the kid's hair and gives him a friendly push. "There probably is a smith on the main deck, why don't you ask him."

-oOo-

Jeffrey appreciates Edmund's advice not to participate in the plays. They all end with the victims getting smeared with all kinds of icky stuff, of which tar must be the most pleasant. Other entertainment is found in the form of music and song. Bogg seems to have become some kind of entertainment himself. Narrating stories of other times he sailed the seven seas and the spectacular attacks by pirates he witnessed first hand. Leaving unclear on which side of the attack he fought, his audience is in awe nonetheless. Jeffrey, in the meantime, racks his brain trying to figure out a way to get unto the quarterdecks and into the cabins there. The quartermaster has taken the omni up there and he must get it back. But how? He decides he will ask Edmund. He came across as a smart guy who knew the ship and the people on it. Perhaps he knows how to get the quartermaster to give them back the omni, before they get to Batavia.

It's warm on the orlopdeck, warmer than above deck in the sun. Jeffrey starts to sweat even worse. The place smells worse than a pigsty. It makes him sick to his stomach. Definitely not the sea that causes seasickness. He swallows a couple of times to keep his lunch down. With renewed resolve he steps onto the deck.

Two men are playing chess by an open hatch through which light and fresh are stream into the confined space. He ask them where he can find Edmund.

"The night owl? Over there, in the darkest part."

Despite the smell and heat more people have decided to stay below decks. Some are playing boardgames by open hatches, others are talking or even making music. How any one could sleep through all this? Well, if you're tired enough, you could probably sleep through anything. He finds Edmund, in the darkest part. There is still enough light to make out his features. He must have been sleeping rough. His shirt got undone and exposes part of his chest. Jeffrey stares at it. It's not a man's chest, hairy, like Bogg's. Or even smooth, as that of a boy. Edmund wakes up. As all people seem to wake up when someone is staring at them.

"What?" he asks eying Jeffrey.

"You're a girl."

-oOo-

_A/N: The name of the ship is _Gerechtigheid_. In English: _Justice.


	5. Gerechtigheid

Edmund lunges herself at Jeffrey. They both crash to the floor.

"A little louder, please. I don't think the entire ship has heard you," she bites in his ear with breath suppressed. She covers his mouth with her hand.

"Are you all right back there?" someone shouts.

"Yeah, sure," Edmund calls back, eyes of fire focused on Jeffrey. He's afraid to move. Rarely has he seen this much anger and hate and fear balled into one. He tries to shake his head to indicate that he won't repeat what he just said.

"Not a word to anyone." Edmund's voice carries enough threat to make Jeffrey consider giving up speech all together. He nods. Then Edmund let's go of him. She sits up on her haunches to do up her shirt and tuck it in. "What are you down here for anyway?"

"Why?" Jeffrey sits up.

"You came to ask why?"

"No, I didn't know. I came to ask about something else. Now I'm confused."

"About what?"

"You."

"Don't be. I'm Edmund, sailor, night owl."

"But you're ..." Jeffrey doesn't have to see Edmund's look. Feeling it is enough to make him shut up. "I need some fresh air." He scrambles up and starts making his way out.

"Me too." Edmund follows him.

On the forecastledeck they find a quiet place by the railing. In silence they stand next to each other. Edmund staring at a musical band, Jeffrey staring into the distance.

"Why?" he asks again after a while.

"For the adventure? The money? The stories? Because I wanted a better life for myself and thought I could find it in the East."

"Couldn't you have traveled as a passenger?"

"If I could have afforded to travel as a passenger I could have afforded a better life back home in the Republic."

"So you just left everything behind, your home, your family? Won't you miss your family?"

"About as much as they will miss me." Edmund turns around and snorts.

"What?"

"The song that Foo Foo band is singing."

Jeffrey looks over his shoulder at the band. He doesn't understand the words they are singing.

_Daar was laatst een meisje loos  
die wou gaan varen, die wou gaan varen_

"It's about a girl who wants to become a sailor," Edmund explains.

"Like you."

"I hope not." After a short pause Edmund explains further. "She wanted to work in the mast, tying up the sails, but in a storm her knots break and the sail comes crashing down. She begs the captain not to beat her, and offers him her services."

"What kind of services?"

Edmund turns to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "The kind of services women shouldn't have to offer to escape a beating. It's why I left anyway."

In silence they stare into the ocean for a while.

"I guess it had to be found out some time. I'm surprised it took this long. Back home I heard about a girl who signed on dressed as a man. She was discovered after ten days. She was taken of the ship."

"Set overboard? Thrown in the ocean?" Jeffrey asks in shock.

Edmund gives him another frown.

"At the Cape, when the ship was in the harbor. Despite everything you might have heard of the men that sail with the Company, they aren't that barbaric."

Jeffrey wonders if he could have seen before. But Edmund doesn't look particularly feminine, and it's not something you'd expect, a woman aboard a 17th century ship.

"What did you come to wake me up for?"

"Er, do you remember that thing the quartermaster took from my friend? I would like to get it back."

"Well, you could ask him, but I think it's less trouble if you just wait till we get to Batavia."

"I don't think I can wait that long."

"Sorry, can't help you."

"What are you gonna do now? Are you gonna continue to pretend to be a man?"

"Of course. What else can I do? Are you gonna report me? Do you think they will give you back the thing if you tell them about me?"

"Oh, I wouldn't. Never." Jeffrey firmly shakes his head. "You helped us when Bogg and I were walking on deck at night. Now, I'll help you."

"Good. Let's just hope no one heard you over all that noise we have here."

-oOo-

It's not until the next morning that Jeffrey finally runs into Bogg again. He thugs at his sleeve.

"Can we go somewhere private to talk?"

"Jeff, this is a ship, this is about as private as it gets."

"I need to tell you something about Edmund." He whispers his discovery in his ear.

"Are you sure?" Bogg asks with an incredulous look.

"Bogg, I'm not blind. I know what I saw."

"Well, you know how fat men sometimes get breast-like flap."

"What I saw wasn't fat flap. Besides, she got quite violent when she told me not to repeat what I said."

"You're telling me now."

"I'm not repeating exactly what I said."

Bogg frowns, interesting ethics. First the kid becomes a cynic and then a bit too pragmatic about his value system. Twelve is too young an age to start voyaging. If only he had tried a little harder to find a good home for the kid. A good home, as if he were some kind of redundant pet. He shakes his head. "A woman on the ship. That is bad luck."

"For the ship?"

"For the woman."

Jeffrey replies with a blank look.

"One woman, two hundred men, at sea for months."

Jeffrey still looks blank.

"C'mon, Jeff, you're not usually this slow."

"It's not something I want to think about."

"You're right. Neither do I." He gives his friend an encouraging smile. "Let's hope we'll stay the only ones who know."

-oOo-

It's near the midday hour when Edmund comes storming out of the forecastle chased by two men. They manage to catch up with her and grab her. She tries to pull away by kicking and hitting them. They hit her too. Bogg steps in, dosing out a few punches, and receiving some in return. Then the fight is broken up by some soldiers. The four of them are held by soldiers while the provost steps up in front of them. Bogg tries to shake off the hands that hold him. They don't let go. The provost is not amused.

"Did none of you listen last evening when I explained the rules aboard this ship? Obviously not, 'cause you still had to fight. Now I have to assemble a ship's court. They won't like it that I disturb them when they are sitting down to eat. So I won't do that. I'll wait until they are done. In the mean time, no meal for the four of you. Set them by the mast." The last remark is directed at the soldiers.

The provost walks away. The soldiers take their captives to the main mast and there they sit them down.

"Thank you," Bogg says as the hands finally let go of him.

Edmund sits next to him. Her face set to bad weather, very bad weather.

"Are you all right?" he asks her. She shrugs in reply. "What were they after you for anyway?"

"Territory issues."

"Well, it doesn't look so bad," Bogg tries to remark with a smile. "Just a meal missed."

Edmund looks at him incredulously. "First time on a ship I take it."

Bogg gives a wry smile. He knows just how bad it looks. On a pirate's ship it would have been simple: whoever had a dispute got to fight it out. But from what he has heard he knows on others ships order and discipline is enforced. Not without reason, too many people kept in too little space tend to go for each other's throat. He's just glad no one pulled a knife. The common punishment for that is that the owner of the knife is stapled to the mast with his own knife through his hand. The wound that leaves would probably get infected, considering the hygiene on the average ship. The hand might have to be amputated or the offender could even die of his wounds. Medical care is usually performed by the ships barber. As if shaving men takes the same skills as taking care of their wounds. Theirs was a small offense, a small fight, probably taken care of with a flogging.

Instinctively he moves a little closer to Edmund.

"Jeffrey told me," he says. Edmund looks at him.

"Little boy blabbermouth," she replies.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"I would have taken you for fifteen when we first met."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

On the one hand Bogg would like to put an arm around his, her, shoulders, as he would do with Jeffrey in a situation like this. At the same time, he's aware of the protective barrier Edmund has pulled up around herself. He's afraid he would break that down.

Jeffrey watches the whole scene from a distance. Just as he was about to jump into the fight as well soldiers came in to break it up. Probably just aswell he didn't get caught up in the fight, otherwise he would now too be sitting by the mast missing the midday meal. His stomach rumbles as if it wants to make sure Jeffrey hasn't forgotten about him. He folds his hands around the fork in his pocket. _I'm sorry, Bogg_, he thinks, _but I'm not going to miss this meal for you. I'm still a kid, I'm still growing. I need my vitamins_. Besides, Bogg seems to be signaling him to not get involved. After this meal, he determines, he will find a good spot on the forecastledeck from which he can watch the rest of the proceedings.

-oOo-

A few hours go by in which Edmund has not taken her eyes of a knot in the wood of the deck; the two men have been playing a variety of rock, paper, scissors, until a soldier put a stop to that; and Bogg hopes he has been able to indicate to Jeffrey to not get involved, they're in enough trouble as it is. The provost returns and takes their names. Some soldiers set up five chairs on the deck. The provost has assembled the ship's court, made up of the five highest ranking officers, among them the skipper and the commander. A large crowd is gathering on the main deck. The four involved in the fight are pulled to their feet. The provost reads out the charges.

"Jacob Janszoon, Dirk Gilliszoon, Edmund Coenszoon and Phineas Bogg, you are charged with fighting on board the ship _Gerechtigheid_ on the 15th of December of the year 1666. How do you plead?"

Jacob and Dirk plead guilty. Edmund has to think about it.

"What's difficult about the question?"

"I didn't start the fight."

"That wasn't the question."

"I was attacked. It was self-defense."

"Were you fighting or were you not?"

"I was."

"Then you should plead guilty."

Edmund pleads guilty. Bogg decides to plead guilty as well.

"Now we have established that you were all fighting, let's find out why." The skipper looks at them each individually. None of them says anything in reply. "Well, the boy just said he didn't start it, so who did? We're not getting anywhere if you all just keep staring at your feet. Boy, do you know why you were attacked?"

"I'm not a boy. I'm a sailor."

"Really? You look like a boy, but continue."

"They asked me a question I didn't like, so I ran away."

"What question did they ask?" Edmund shrugs. "What question did you asks?" The two men look at each other.

"We only asked if he'd like to play a game."

"You don't like playing games? What kind of game?"

"I don't think it's allowed," Edmund says softly.

"Not allowed? Why didn't you tell the provost?"

"I was on my way, but they caught me and beat me."

"And what was this game they asked you to play?"

No one says anything. Bogg can imagine why. Edmund risks exposing herself and getting into more trouble than she is now. The two men risk the death penalty for indecent behavior, either executed at the ship, or spent the rest of the trip to Batavia where they can be trialled, locked in hell. The hell is a small locker in the bow just above the waterline. Called hell because of the extreme movements in that part of the ship and the noise of the water breaking on the bow.

"Hmm. And what is your role in all this?" the skipper directs his question at Bogg.

"I saw the fight and wanted to break it up."

"Not very successful. You got involved in the fight yourself."

"I guess."

The court confers shortly and then the commander gives verdict. As Bogg has expected a flogging for them all.

"Take off your shirts and hands against the wall," the provost orders.

Edmund has so far taken everything that has been going on with great calm. Bogg admires that. He doesn't feel calm at all. She probably would have taken her flogging as a man too, so to speak, but now that someone wants her to take of her shirt she is suddenly panic struck. She looks at Bogg for help.

"C'mon you've got to let him go. He's just a boy," Bogg tries.

"If he's old enough to get into a fight, then he's old enough to take a penalty for it."

"He didn't look for a fight. He got into it by accident. If you need to flog someone, flog me twice, but let him go."

"Take their shirts off for them."

Soldiers step up to help Bogg and Edmund out of their shirts. This causes quite a stir in the crowd. A trial with flogging following is a nice break from the usual on board entertainment. Particularly now that the boy turns out not to be a boy at all.

"A woman!" the provost shouts. "We have a woman on board."

The members of the ship's court who had already been on their way back to the poop, turn around and come back. Edmund crosses her arms in front of her chest and tries to look away.

"What do we do with a woman on board?" the provost shouts to the skipper.

"Well, first you give her back her shirt," the skipper replies. "What's your name girl? And I mean your real name."

"Brecht. Daughter of Coen."

"And why did you dress up like a man?"

"Because I want to go to the Indies. Start a new life there. I didn't see any other way."

"Whore," a man shouts. "Thief."

"I'm not a whore. And I've never been a thief," Brecht snaps back at him.

"Ha! No honest woman has to dress up like a man. You must have done something to run away from. I say we flog her. She must have done something to deserve it."

"Thank you, surgeon, for your two cents," the skipper replies. "But I think if this girl had been a whore or a thief we would have found out about her a lot sooner. Where did you sign on, Brecht?"

"Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam, and all that time you kept your secret."

"I keep to myself."

"Then she should be flogged for dressing as a man," the surgeon continues. "And for lying when she signed on."

The skipper who has kept his eyes on Brecht the whole time now turns to the surgeon. "Bring me ten men of these two hundred that haven't ever told a lie when they signed on, and I will personally flog her. Wanting a better life for yourself is not a crime. Come, Brecht, let's see you to a cabin." The skipper takes Brecht by her arm and escorts her to the stairs. "Give these three men their flogging. And that one," he points to Bogg, "the double dose he asked for."

-oOo-

_A/N:_ Daar was laatst een meisje loos _is a traditional._


	6. Quarterdeck

Two men help Bogg to carefully lower himself onto the bunk and lie down on his stomach. He gives them a grimacing thank you smile. They turn away to tend to their own business.

"Are you all right?" Jeffrey asks. He didn't stay around to watch his friend get flogged. Bogg grunts. "I know it was a stupid question. I meant considering." He extends a hand to Bogg.

"Don't touch, kid, unless your hands have some kind of magical healing power you've never told me about." Bogg winces as he tries to find the most comfortable position.

Jeffrey pulls his hand back.

"What do you think will happen to Edmund, now that people've found out her secret?" He sits down besides his friend.

"I don't know. I've never been on a ship where a woman signed on. The captain took her to a cabin. For her sake I hope he means well."

"She told me about a song, where a girl becomes a sailor and offers her services to a captain to get out of a beating."

"That's possible."

"But this captain didn't want to give her a beating."

"What he doesn't want to do in public doesn't mean he doesn't want to do in private."

Jeffrey nods, then changes the subject. "I think it was very brave of you to offer to take her flogging."

"More brave than brain," Bogg grunts. "And it didn't do her much good in the end, or me."

"You want me to get you the ship's surgeon?"

"You keep that butcher away from me. I will just bite through the pain."

"Do you think those two men knew about Edmund? You know, the ones that you fought with."

"Possibly."

"They must have heard when I called her a girl." Jeffrey feels bad. This may all be his fault.

"They probably found out on their own. With so many people in such a small space, nothing can be a secret long."

"Yeah, but she managed to keep it a secret until we came aboard."

"It's not your fault she was found out, Jeff." Bogg wants to put a reassuring hand on his young friend's shoulder. But he changes his mind as moving his arm sends more pain through his body. "Set it out of your mind. Perhaps it was our job to protect her from the first two men so that the captain could take her on as a passenger."

"We don't know that until we get the omni back."

"No. Any thoughts on how to get it back?"

"I tried to get onto the quarterdeck, but it's guarded and they keep sending me away. You don't suppose they'll let me on deck if I tell them I'm Edmund's little brother and need to talk to her?"

"They gave me an extra flogging because I seemed to know before that she was a girl. I don't think it's a good idea to lead on you knew too."

"Maybe the captain also takes on little boys as passengers."

"A six-year-old is a little boy. A thirteen-year-old is a cabin boy."

"Shouldn't cabin boys work in cabins? The captain's cabin?"

"You'd think that, but they do their best work scrubbing the deck."

"Hmm. I'll see what I can do." Jeffrey gets up. "I'll be back."

"I'll be here. Wishing I was someone else."

-oOo-

Scrubbing the deck, why hadn't he thought of that before? And the quarterdecks would need scrubbing too. Jeffrey sets out to find a bucket and a mop. The young Voyager never would have thought, but when you're looking for a chore, it's pretty hard to find one. He does, however, find the ship's cabin boys all huddled together on the forecastledeck, talking about the day's events.

"I knew of course she was a woman," one of them says. He appears to be the leader of the pack, lurking on a pipe, the others looking up at him in awe. "But I said I would keep her secret, for a little something in return. We had an arrangement."

Jeffrey rolls his eyes. "What would that arrangement be? You wouldn't come near her and Edmund wouldn't throw you overboard?"

"Who's Edmund?"

"Edmund, the name the woman went by as a man. You didn't know that?" Jeffrey gives him a surprised look.

"Well, we never formally introduced ourselves, it wasn't necessary."

"I don't think you knew her at all," one of the other boys says. "And I think some of your other stories weren't true either."

The others laugh.

"Whatever." The boy with the pipe turns away from the group. "Quartermaster."

The boys all jump to their feet.

"What about your chores?" the quartermaster asks as he eyes the boys one by one.

"All done for today, quartermaster."

"Well, do 'm again. I'm sure you've missed a spot here and there."

"Yes, sir."

"How's your seasickness?" the quartermaster asks when his eye falls on Jeffrey.

"Much better, thank you." Jeffrey gives him a smile.

The quartermaster gives him a measly smile in return. "Now, get to work."

Jeffrey isn't sure whether he should salute or not. The other boys don't. He quickly follows them. None of them objects when he offers to take the quarterdeck. Moments later Jeffrey finds himself carrying a bucket and a mop up the stairs to the quarterdeck. He has no problems getting past the soldier this time. But how to get from the deck to the cabins with another soldier watching him on deck?

Jeffrey splashes some water on the deck and starts mopping. Keeping an eye on the soldier to see if he would turn his attention elsewhere. The soldier, however, seems to be someone who just loves to see other people work. Nearing the door Jeffrey's work starts to slack a little through his preoccupation with thinking of ways to get to the cabins. At one point he even stops mopping.

"Boy, get back to work," the soldier yells. "No day dreaming."

Jeffrey returns to his mopping. It's obvious the soldier isn't going to take his eyes of him. This can pretty much be regarded as a failed attempt to get the omni. Jeffrey wants to pack it in, but he's pretty sure the soldier will call him back if he doesn't mop the entire deck. When he's finished Jeffrey picks up the bucket and mop. He throws a last look at the soldier. He decides against asking him whether the deck is clean enough for him; he might say no.

After emptying the bucket of water overboard, Jeffrey returns mop and bucket to the storage room. He spends the rest of the afternoon on the forecasteldeck, staring at the quarterdeck thinking off plans of how to get into the cabins.

-oOo-

Jeffrey opens his eyes. He climbed into Edmund's hammock to get some sleep and work on his new plan. He hopes he isn't too late. He quietly lowers himself out of the hammock and tries to find his way to the stairs in the dark. Some silvery moonlight shines through the open hatches. It helps him get across the orlopdeck without disturbing the men sleeping there. But it also worries him: the moonlight will expose him if he walks on the upperdeck. Carefully he climbs the stairs to the upperdeck and peaks around. No one on deck in sight. He hears someone walking on the forecastledeck. Shoot, that one is going to see him when he crosses the deck. Jeffrey looks up at the moon. He smiles when he sees a cloud slide in front of it. When the moon is completely obscured he tries to run as quickly and as quietly as he can towards the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck, using the railing as a guide on his way.

He closes the door to the cabins. That was the easy part. Now the hard part: where would the omni be. Perhaps he should find a place to hide and wait until morning so he can search for it in the light. On the other hand, in the dark, with everybody sleeping, he is less likely to run in to someone.

"Hold it right there."

Scratch that thought. He feels something press in the low of his back. He raises his hands, but doubts that can even be seen in the darkness.

"What are you doing here?" a voice hisses at him.

"I ... I got lost."

"You seem to do that a lot." The voice sounds familiair.

"Edmund?"

"How did you get past the watchmen on deck?"

"It was dark."

"Incompetent fools. You never would have gotten past me."

"Obviously. Are you still on the night watch?"

"No, I couldn't sleep. All the noises are different here. Guess, I'm still a night owl." Edmund stops poking Jeffrey in the back. "You should know better than to be on deck at night. What is it you want?"

"I came to get the thing the quartermaster took from my friend." Jeffrey has lowered his hands and turns around to face Edmund. His eyes have gotten used to the dark and he can make out her silhouette in the dim light.

"Your friend. I'm sorry he got flogged because of me."

"Twice!"

"Shh."

"You have to help us. To get our possession back."

"I don't know. If I get caught ..."

"My friend helped you out without thinking of the consequences for himself."

"True." Jeffrey wishes there was more light. He's sure he could convince her to help if he used one of his looks on her. They work great on women of all the ages. "All right. I'll help. Hold this." Edmund trusts a stick in Jeffrey's hand and lights it a moment later.

"You held me under treat with a candle stick?"

"Didn't have anything else." Edmund takes the candle. "Follow me. Quartermaster has given the little box thing to the captain. I heard him talk about it to the commander over dinner. He was quite impressed with it. I think he wants one of his own."

"As long as he doesn't want ours." Jeffrey follows Edmund. In the light of the candle he can see she has changed her clothing to something more traditionally female.

Edmund carefully opens a door. "This is the captain's office. He sleeps in another cabin next door. So you'll have to be quiet."

They go into the cabin. Edmund lights a lamp and gives it to Jeffrey. They start looking around in the cabin. Jeffrey searches the desk. Not much later he finds it in one of the drawers.

"Found it." He holds up the omni to show it to Edmund.

"Good. Now, let's get out of here." Edmund blows out the lamp and puts it back in its place. She usher Jeffrey back to the door to the quarterdeck.

"Tell your friend thank you for trying to help me. I hope he isn't in too much pain."

"Don't worry about that. He always loves to help out the pretty girl. Just, usually he likes the reward better."

Jeffrey says good bye to Edmund, and thanks her for her help too. When he steps out on deck the moon is still obscured by a cloud. Jeffrey hastily makes his way across the deck back to Bogg.

"Bogg! I have the omni back," he tells him in a hushed voice.

"You do? How?" Bogg lifts up his head to look at the kid.

"Not important. But it gives a green light, so everything worked out the way it is supposed to."

"Good. Time for us to leave then." Bogg scrambles up and makes a sore face.

"Are you sure? Wouldn't you rather stay here and get better?"

"I'd rather take my chances and get better somewhere else. Few places are as bad as this. Set the dials, kid."

-oOo-

They land on an unstable surface. Bogg immediately looses balance and falls on his back, but he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all.

"Haha. A bed, kid, an actual bed. A nice soft and fluffy bed. From now on I'm always letting you set the dials." He makes himself comfortable on the bed.

Jeffrey checks the omni. "That's strange."

"What is?" Bogg glances at him.

"It's November 1, 1428, but I didn't set the dials for this date."

"You know how the omni sometimes has a mind of its own about where to drop us."

"Yeah, but it's a green light here." Jeffrey shows him.

"That is some what strange. Perhaps the omni knew that I needed some time to get better, so it dropped us in a green light zone, on a nice soft bed." Bogg closes his eyes. "I think I'm going to enjoy this little gift."

Jeffrey climbs off the bed and looks around the room. Luxurious for Middle Ages' standards. So they're probably in the house of royalty or nobility or something else that is well-to-do. He looks around a curtain that turns out to be covering the door way to another room. He stares straight into the face of a man that is kneeling in the middle of the room hands folded and eyes closed. Jeffrey drops the curtain.

"Bogg," he whisper-shouts. "Come on, have a look."

Bogg gives a grunt of displeasure, but gets up and walks over to the curtain. "This better be good, kid."

"There's a man praying in the other room."

"So?" Bogg shrugs. Prayer doesn't seem to be an uncommon activity in 1428.

"I think I've seen him before." Jeffrey raises a tip of the curtain and they both look around it. "There was a picture in my history book."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. I think it was some kind of French king or something."

"Who's king of France now?"

"Well, no one. I told you about Henry VI and Charles VII. Wait a sec." It suddenly hits Jeffrey. "That's Charles VII. Well, before he became king. I think we're here to tell him that he has to give Joan an army so that she can end the siege of Orléans."

Jeffrey wants to step out from behind the curtain. He feels Bogg's hand on his shoulder holding him back. He looks up at his partner.

"Wrong, Jeff. We're not here to tell him anything. We've got a green light, remember?"

"Yeah, but then what are we here for?"


	7. Reims

"Lord, I pray Thee give me strength. It has been six years since my father passed. My brothers have all passed before him. Lord, would my father have given the throne of France to England if any of them would have still been alive? Would my little nephew Henry become king of France if I still had had brothers? If my father had doubted whether his son is really his son ... Lord, You know the stories about my mother. You are the only one who knows the truth. People accuse me of not claiming the French throne. Lord, how can I claim her if I have no right to her? Lord, give me strength. Lord, You know whether I am the rightful king of France. Could You give me a sign to take away my doubt?"

Jeffrey drops the curtain.

"I really think that is Charles Dauphin. You remember what that man in the inn said about Charles and how he was doubting he could be king?"

"Well, we have a green light now. He will be king."

"Yeah, but I still don't know why the omni dropped us here. For some reason I think it was important and I can't figure out what. I don't think it was for your back." Jeffrey knits his brow.

"Thanks. You want to go see a coronation?"

"Sure!"

Bogg has to smile at Jeffrey's child like delight.

"Okay, you set the dials and we're off."

-oOo-

Reims, July 17, 1429.

"I liked it better when you dropped us on a bed, kid." With the aid of a nearby wall Bogg scrambles up. He should have stayed on the bed. What were the chances someone would have walked in? Even then, plenty of time to omni out once the curtain started moving because someone was trying to pull through. He leans against the wall. It's his own fault too. From now on no more heroics. Girls that dress up like men and get themselves into trouble are on their own. See, corporal punishment really works to teach people a lesson. He grimaces, cynicism. The kid learned it from no stranger.

Jeffrey gives him the omni and he clips in on his waist band.

"Where to now?"

"To the cathedral." Jeffrey leads the way, nearly bouncing with enthusiasm. It's not often Bogg suggests an outing like this. Usually he has to beg him for it. "Kings of France were crowned in the Notre Dame of Reims. I imagine it will be quite spectacular, with real knights and stuff. And we'll get to see Joan again. She'll be there, of course; she made it happen."

A quartet of armed men passes them in the street.

"Guards to make sure there are no irregularities, riots and such. Until recently Reims was supportive of the duke of Burgundy, who had an allegiance with the English. Might still be a few of them about."

"Well, they seem to be doing a good job. It's very quiet in the streets."

"What did you expect? Rows upon rows of people in the streets waving little French flags?"

Bogg shrugs. Flags he hadn't expected, but he at least thought there would be some people out in the streets as excited as Jeffrey to see some real knights.

They reach the impressive cathedral and enter it through the door on the right. Inside nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. Whereas things should be out of the ordinary: it's not every day a king is crowned.

"Bogg, I think we have a red light."

"You think there is a red light?"

"Well, I didn't really check it. I just sort of glanced the omni to see if date and place where right. I mean, we had a green light in Chinon. What could have gone wrong between then and now?" Jeffrey starts to get an embarrassed look on his face. He feels he has made a mistake. It's not often that he does.

"You'd be surprised at how much could go wrong." Bogg flicks open the omni to reveal a red light.

"Now what? I really thought we had it cracked." Jeffrey throws his arms in the air in frustration. "What is this supposed to mean? Charles did give Joan an army? She didn't manage to lift the siege of Orléans? What? What?"

Jeffrey slips into a nearby pew and rests his face in his hands to think. Bogg sits down next to him.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if the omni not only told us something is wrong, but also what is wrong. In stead of letting us stalk around for the cause of the red light like a couple of headless chickens."

Bogg considers the image of the both of them without heads. "It also would have been easier if I still had my guidebook."

"You don't need your guidebook, Bogg, you have me."

"True."

Jeffrey leans back and crosses his arms. He kicks the pew in front of him. So far this mission has been very frustrating. He has done nothing concerning the red light with Jules Verne; the red light on the ship sorted itself out; and with Joan his input wasn't really needed either 'cause pretty soon the voices in her head took over. Well, those visions slipped up somewhere, 'cause Joan isn't here now. That's some kind of consolation. But it is meager. He kicks the pew again. Why is there a red light? Why? Why? Why? He kicks the pew to the rhythm of asking why. He feels Bogg's hand on his knee. He looks up at him. Bogg says nothing, but Jeffrey answers him anyway.

"It's frustrating."

"Sure, but kicking wood till your toes are sore isn't gonna help."

Jeffrey shrugs.

"So what should have happened since we left Joan?"

"Well, she should have gone to Baudricourt like we told her. He gave her an escort to the Dauphin, who gave her an army. Then she lifted the siege of Orléans. I think we should work our way back from there. Find out if the siege was lifted; if Joan was there to lift it; if there actually was a siege to begin with."

"Wouldn't that have made things easier for Joan if there hadn't been a siege?"

"Probably."

"Right, I think we should start asking a few questions here and there." Bogg gets up. "See who it is we need to pay another visit."

"That's it!" Jeffrey jumps up. "Pay another visit."

Bogg looks puzzled.

"The first time Joan went to Baudricourt he laughed at her and sent her back home. She went back to him a few months later and then he gave her an escort to the Dauphin. That's it! Joan didn't make her second visit. We have to go to her and tell her to go to Baudricourt again."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. December 1428, that's where we need to go."

"If you say so."

Bogg sets the dials of the omni. Jeffrey puts his hand and his friend's arm. This new insight has brought a great big smile to his face. Bogg clicks the button of the omni, and they're off flying through space and time.

-oOo-

They land in the garden where they last talked to Joan. There's a thin layer of snow on the ground and tree branches.

"You're not thinking of another snowball fight, are you?" Bogg eyes Jeffrey.

"Of course not." Jeffrey is dusting off the snow powder. "We have to find Joan and tell her to go back to Baudricourt."

There is a disturbance at the house. The back door is thrown open and a young woman runs into the garden.

"You're back!" she shouts.

"Joan!" She's grown up quite nicely, Bogg notices. Too bad she is the Maiden. Bogg scolds himself for that thought. "Joan, why didn't you go to the Baudricourt like we told you?" He takes her hands in his.

"I did. I did go to see him. But he laughed at me. He said he should box my ears for leaving home without my father's permission. Then he sent me back. And my father. He doesn't say it, but I know I have embarrassed him. He hasn't said a word to me since I got back. I'm sorry, Saint Michael, I've let you down." Joan lowers her head.

"Joan," Bogg says in a soft voice. He puts his hand lightly against her face. She looks up at him. "Joan, we wouldn't be back here if we didn't still believe in you."

"Yes, Saint Michael," Joan replies quietly, "but I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Joan, walk with me, will you." Jeffrey beckons her. They walk into the garden together. "We've told you about your assignment, and we've tried to give you encouragement, but I think it hasn't been enough."

"You and Saint Michael have always been very kind to me, er, angel."

"Oh, you can call me Jeffrey."

"Jeffrey. You have been always very kind to me. And Saint Catharine and Saint Margaret were also very encouraging. I know I've let you all down. I'm very sorry."

"We believed in you, Joan. We still believe in you. You are the Maiden. You will give the French throne back to its rightful king. We believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself too."

"I want to, but I can't. I can't leave my home without my father's permission. He won't give that permission, and Baudricourt will just send me back again."

"God, our father in heaven, has given you permission to leave your home. You must go back to Baudricourt and demand of him an escort to the Dauphin in Chinon." Two thoughts come together in Jeffrey's mind. He continues, "Charles Dauphin asked God for a sign in a prayer he made on November first. You are that sign. The Dauphin asked if he was the rightful king of France. He is, and you are the sign from God that is going to tell him that. Ask him for an army to lift the siege of Orléans. If he asks you any questions, tell him God has heard his prayers and sent you. But you have to believe in yourself you can do this. We believe in you, Joan. Do you believe in you too?"

"But it is such a large task."

"We believe you can do this. Do you believe you can do this?"

Joan hesitantly nods her head.

"More convincing. Joan, do you believe in yourself?"

"Yes, I believe in myself."

"Louder."

"Yes, I believe in myself." Jeffrey stirs up the passion in Joan. "I believe in me," she calls out.

"You are the Maiden."

"I am the Maiden!" Joan echoes.

"You will get the escort to Chinon."

"I will get the escort to Chinon!"

"You will lead the army."

"I will lead the army!" Joan clenches her fist combatively.

"You will lift the siege of Orléans."

"I will lift the siege of Orléans!"

"You are the Maiden. A sign from God to the Dauphin."

"I am the Maiden!" She looks at Jeffrey and smiles at him. "I am sent by God."

"Very good. Yes, you are."

Bogg looks at the scene with curiosity. He shakes his head to it. He takes the omni and checks it. The light turns from red to green. Whatever it is Jeffrey's doing it is working. He puts his thumb up to him.

Jeffrey puts his hand on Joan's head to give her his blessing. Then he sends her back to the house to get ready for another trip to de Baudricourt. Joan nods, crosses herself and runs back to the house. Jeffrey turns to Bogg with a big smile on his face.

"I once saw a motivational speaker on TV. It seemed to work then," he replies to his friend's questioning face.

"It sure did the trick here." Bogg shows him the green light.

"Can we go to the coronation for real now? You did promise."

"I did no such thing. I just asked if you liked to go see one. Never said I would take you to one." He watches the quick turn to sadness in his friend's face. "All right, then, just this once." He sets the dials as Jeffrey cheers up again.

-oOo-

Reims, France, July 17, 1429.

From a higher vantage point Jeffrey and Bogg look down at the proceedings in the cathedral. It is even more impressive than Jeffrey had imagined. The knights, their banners. To the left by the choir Jeffrey has spotted Joan. She is beaming with pride as if it is her own son that is receiving the ointment, blessing and crown from the archbishop of Reims. Jeffrey waves at her. She gives a small nod in greeting and then returns her attention to the ceremony. Jeffrey sighs.

"Are you okay, kid?"

"Yeah. Just a bit sad. I kinda started to like Joan, and we helped her along to an early death."

Bogg says nothing. I told you so seems inappropriate. And everything he can think of sounds like I told you so. He squeezes Jeffrey's shoulder. "Let's go somewhere else," he finally says.

Jeffrey nods in reply.

THE END

-oOo-

_Disclaimer: Phineas Bogg and Jeffrey Jones were created by James D. Parriott. Jules Verne, Joan of Arc and Charles Dauphin came from history. Edmund is based on all those girls that did dress up as men to sail with the VOC._

A/N: Thank you for reading my story. Leave a review to tell me what you think of it.  



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